Starboard
by a woman of letters
Summary: The story of Captain Killian Jones and the boy he almost abandoned. Post "And Straight on Till Morning."
1. The Coward

**Starboard**

The story of Captain Killian Jones and the boy he almost abandoned.

Chapter 01

_The Coward_

There were no such things as ghosts. Wraiths? Yes perhaps. Demons? Of course. Actual gods and goddesses? In his life he'd met his fair share. He'd been to so many worlds and met creatures beyond goblin, god, and monster that it should be ridiculous that a spirit from the afterlife would activate his skepticism. It was impossible. But if that were right then how exactly was she haunting him?

Killian Jones stared at the bulkhead in the murk and only saw her face instead of the gloomy darkness he'd always sought out to clear his mind. He knew she wasn't real. He knew her smile was impossible. He knew when that smile turned to disappointment that his eyes were betraying him. It was when she began to silently weep that he forced himself to look away. The familiar shadow of night wrapped around him once more. He managed to do then what had been unthinkable for him to do when she'd been alive: he fell asleep while she cried.

_Coward_.

His eyes darted open and morning sunlight burned through them. Her voice echoed in his mind, the night vanishing away from him like dawn mist without allowing him any hint of rest. His vision was blurred and his body was yearning for sleep. A dull throbbing ached between his temples and just about every part of him was in a queer state of painful fatigue.

_Coward_.

Her voice was shrill and oppressive and it vibrated through his whole self, shaking apart all he knew of himself. Three nights had passed exactly the same, rest evading him each time only for the void it left to be filled with . . . _shame_. Disgusted shame. He had wanted vengeance and instead his nights were sleepless with the echoes of disappointment from his lost love. Perhaps he was, yes, perhaps he was being haunted. It was the only explanation. She died hoping with everything she was that he could right what she'd done wrong and instead of redeeming her memory to her son, Killian knew he had simply damned the memory of her even further.

The boy had believed better of her before he had met him. Now the child was alone and living with the dreaded knowledge that everyone who should have been there for him in his life had abandoned him. But that wasn't the truth. Not the whole truth. There was so much the boy didn't know about his mother's love for him. Killian realized he'd had his chance to tell him right in front of him but he destroyed it and in doing so, made an effigy of Milah's memory. Now she haunted him. Now she called him a coward because it was fitting. Yes, he was wasn't he? No better than the Crocodile . . .

_Coward_ . . .

* * *

The boys played during the day. It was all there really was to do in Neverland. There was the greatest aversion to even the word 'work' whenever he would ask. Everything was bright with rainbows of colors at every turn but Baelfire kept to his tent. He'd had to pitch it himself which wasn't too difficult. The older boys all had tree houses while the younger ones and the newer ones camped just a little away from the shore. Despite the loveliness of the surroundings, Bae couldn't shake the feeling of residing in a prison camp, with the sea as one impenetrable wall and the tree houses as guard towers. What purpose there was, he honestly couldn't tell since it seemed all that was expected of him and the others was to play.

Sapphire Beach was where their colony was. Named after the fine, cobalt blue sand and sky colored trees that occupied the inland area, Sapphire was but one Lost One colony on the archipelago of Neverland. Bae had only heard of the other colonies abstractly and never by name as the older boys were careful not to reveal too much about their surroundings. Food and drink was in abundance as was music and activities but he was careful to eat as little as possible and he refrained from any activities. The entire island was thick with magic and he could tell their food banks were supplied by it. He knew better than to accept the fruits of magic without acknowledging their cost. The others chalked it up to homesickness and pretty much let him be.

As for rules, there were few but they were strictly adhered to. Never go into the water after sunset alone and never without a boat. Never catch anything at sea. And absolutely never go beyond the blue trees. The first two rules he knew already as all the crew of the Jolly Roger knew them as well. It was why they still were subsisting on rations. No one could eat from the sea without a personal treaty with Nautilia, the MerQueen. Nautilia only made treaties with girls or women. From the others he understood that Wendy had a personal treaty with Nautilia and it was the first time any of the Lost Ones of the Sapphire had tasted the ocean's delicacies.

Looking out into the distance, Bae could see that the blue blended into familiar green about a mile inland. That was a lot of room to freely explore and explore he did. He hiked through lapis-colored switch grass and spied all types of animals he was unfamiliar with. Some even spoke but he couldn't decipher their language. The insects were plentiful but kept their distance. In their avoidance he realized then that he'd never been bitten by one even though Neverland was tropical. He then understood from asking one of the older boys that they couldn't bite him without a treaty.

"A treaty? With the bugs?" He'd asked. It was hard to keep the incredulity from his voice.

"You're surprised?" The older blonde boy who had captured him, Micke, had asked as a reply.

"Well, yes. How would we even have a treaty with bugs?"

"You never asked that when we told you about our lack of a treaty with the fish." And with that, Micke walked away laughing.

"Right," Bae said, feeling a little ridiculous. He soon realized that Neverland was self-sustaining in that no creature within its borders would ever go hungry and so there was never any need to hunt to live. Treaties and trades were a system within the land to facilitate communication. Bae tapped his bare foot against the blue sand and pondered to the ground under him, "But what do you get out of it?"

On his eighth night in Neverland Bae lay awake to the familiar sounds of children's crying. Individually, it was muffled and low, but when all the sounds from hundreds of boys came together it was a cacophony. It would last a half hour or so after lights out was called as they each eventually drifted off to sleep. When the sounds of the night were nothing more than whistling wind Bae rolled off his thin but comfortable mat and peeked out at the camp. In rows three deep, the tents lined the beach just under the start of the blue grass that crept up to the trees farther up. He looked up to the tree houses and saw a light on in the darkness. The first patrol was keeping watch. There was no moon that night so everything at the beach level was obscured in the darkest shadow. Bae crept out of his tent and quickly and quietly made his way down the beach, away from the patrol. When he was sure he was out of range to be seen, he walked down to the edge of the water.

He sat down, making sure he was far enough away from the sea as to keep dry but close enough to feel like he'd escaped, even for a moment. It was his second night out like that and it gave him the time he needed, away from watchful eyes, to just sit and think. He wasn't sad. Not as sad as he knew he should be but maybe he just hadn't had time to think of it like that. On the Jolly Roger he'd mourned the loss of the Darlings and though he thought about them now, for some reason the bigger hole left in him was for the ship. He couldn't dwell on it too much or he knew he'd linger on things he knew he didn't feel. He didn't regret leaving the ship. He'd asked to leave. It's what he wanted. He reminded himself that his mother had lived years on it, with _him_. Years.

Bae swatted at a tear on his cheek and exhaled. He wasn't crying. He was sad, he'd own up to that much but he wasn't crying. He was tired of crying. He was tired of feeling the way he felt and knowing the things he knew. Every Lost One in Neverland chose to be there. They left their homes one day with the promise of adventures on the horizon. They left their families but Baelfire . . . his family had left him. The only way to make sense of it was to tell himself that his parents must have inherently been bad people. It wasn't possible to do the things they did and be good at the same time. It just wasn't possible.

With the Darlings, he knew it was true: good people loved and cared and stayed with their children. They didn't abandon them. Not for anything. He shook his head as if to clear it. Maybe that was too black and white but it was how he wanted to feel as a million different rationalizations flooded into him. He was six months on the streets of London. He'd seen babies abandoned on church doorsteps with notes asking for mercy. Were those parents bad too? No. They were poor and desperately so. He understood the feeling. They wanted to give their children their best chance at life. But was that was his mother and father did for him?

He swatted at another tear and didn't answer the question. He never wanted to answer that question.

There was a distinctive noise out into the black sea. Bae peered to the dark ocean but could barely make out beyond a foot in front of him. It was a splashing that was more than the low rolling waves. It was . . . oars?

Jumping to his feet Bae backed away from the water's edge. "Who's there?" He whispered.

"Three guesses," a familiar voice said as the dory he was on was allowed to gently hit ground.

"Hook?" Bae replied as a mixture of shock and disgust colored his voice.

"Solved in one."

"What are you doing here? How'd you find me?"

"I'm a pirate," Hook said as if that were an answer. He pocketed the enchanted compass he used to find the boy. "As to your first question, I'm here to rescue you."

"Rescue me? What—I left, remember? Why would you think I needed rescuing?"

"The tears tell me enough."

Bae swiped his sleeve at his face. "How are you even seeing me in this darkness?" He asked. He wished he could bury his head in the sand right then and there.

"Here, put these on," Hook said as he pushed an object against Baelfire's chest. Bae clasped it and realized they were glasses.

"What—?"

"Put them on, questions later."

Slipping the glasses on his face, the darkness disappeared and before him was Hook as if he were standing in broad daylight but there was something off about the quality of the light, as if the sun were red and not yellow, but still, everything was clear. On Hook Bae could tell the glasses were as clear as day with silver rims.

"How did you—?"

"As I said, I'm a pirate. Night raids on a new moon are especially effective if you have certain tools at your disposal. Now, come along."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"So let me get this right, your choices are the Jolly Roger or an eternity of midnight weeping and you choose the latter? Oh yes, I can see how that would be _very_ enticing."

"At least I wouldn't have to see you everyday."

Hook bent in close to him but Bae couldn't make out his expression as his face was perfectly flat. "Do you know what my greatest regret from the night I let them take you was?"

Bae said nothing.

"I mistook you for an adult."

"Wha—"

"You lashed out at me and I actually was fool enough to think your words came from a grown man versus a frightened _child_. So do you know what I'm not going to let happen tonight? I'm not going to let a child dictate to me what I know is best for him. Get in the boat."

Bae had no idea what to say. His mind went completely blank. If he screamed then the older boys would come and he as well as Hook would be in serious danger. But he couldn't actually go with him. There was no way he could ever do that.

"Now."

"Don't tell me what to do. You're not my father."

Hook knew that was meant to hurt but it didn't. Rumpelstiltskin was the opposite of everything he'd ever wanted to be in his life. That's why he refused to disappoint Milah's memory. It's why he wouldn't be a coward. "Exactly. It's why I came back for you."

He wasn't crying. He'd been too tired of crying. He didn't want to be like all the other boys. Bae lifted the glasses just a little and used the back of his wrist to dry his eyes.

"Baelfire, I'm so sorry," Hook said as he saw the visual confirmation before him that the young man he'd fished out of the water was still, really, just a boy. He had just deeply hurt a child. He'd always thought he was a better man than that. "I shouldn't have said—"

"Go away," he whispered as he fought to keep control of his voice. Everything was coming up to the surface now. He felt the same way he had his first nights in England. Alone, rejected, scared. And tired. Oh he was so tired. "Just go away," he said, turning from Hook and moving back slowly towards the camp.

"Bae—"

The boy turned on him, pulling the enchanted glasses from his face and throwing them at the man's head. Hook could see the fire in the boys eyes as he lived up to his name.

"You don't want me. Not really. You're not doing this for me; you're doing it for _her_. But it doesn't make sense. Did you really think about it? She didn't want me either." He breathed sharply as he stared ahead in the darkness. "They," he pointed to the tree houses in the distance, "they do." As he said it he knew he was being ridiculous. The Lost Ones didn't actually want him at all. They'd thought he was someone he wasn't and simply kept him as they had all the other boys. In truth, no one had ever really wanted him in his entire life except the Darlings and he'd never see them again.

"Assume you're right. Assume I'm the monster you think I am. Assume I don't care a thing about you. I don't know that your favorite food is fried potatoes with malt vinegar. I don't know that your favorite color is the same dark green as the first rag doll your mother sewed for you. I don't know that you love warm milk with honey. I don't know that you wanted to be a weaver as she was and make tapestries from the yarns your father spun. Assume that your mother never told me these things because she was desperately unhappy without you."

"She didn't come back for me!"

"She wanted to."

"You're lying!"

Lights came on in nearly all the tree houses. They both looked up as a commotion began.

"That's a sign I've overstayed my welcome," Hook said. A moment later Bae felt himself hoisted over the pirate's shoulder like a sack of flour.

"Let go of me!" He shouted and kicked and punched against the man holding him. Hook took it in stride as if a gnat was buzzing around his head.

"Sorry my boy but I don't take orders from children." He jogged to the dory and tossed Baelfire in. Without the glasses, Bae didn't run the risk of bolting out of the boat only to land in the water. Instead he tried to rush Hook as the pirate began to shove off. Hook tossed him back with ease. "I can see you, you can't see me. I also have a hook. Try that again and I'll introduce your backside to it."

"I hate you!"

"I gathered." They shoved off and Hook took control of the oars, directing the dory towards the Jolly Roger that was some distance away. A minute into their journey a sharp, whistling sound zipped past them and they heard the sea swallow it. A moment later a small blast rocked the boat under them with water spraying against them.

"What was that?" Bae asked. Hook quickly leaned over and slipped the glasses back onto the boy's face.

"Get down as far as possible. The Lost Ones are sending broadheads. They're shooting blind but let's hope they don't get lucky."

"Broadheads?" Bae asked from the floor of the boat.

"Arrows they've rigged to explode. That was a warning shot." Hook looked out towards the shore and then his eyes began to track upward. Bae could see some of the color disappear from his face. Hook quickly drew his sword and stood. His muscles tightened as he seemed to brace himself.

A volley came raining down on the small vessel. With lightning quick speed, Hook slashed at arrow after arrow, using the flat side of his sword to deflect them into the water around them versus the blade itself as that would guarantee a few would break off into the boat. The explosions under them rocked them to and fro, threatening to capsize the dory.

Bae looked up at the pirate in wonder. How he managed to keep his balance and fend off the arrows was unbelievable. The assault was over almost as soon as it began.

"Is it safe?" Bae asked.

"Neverland is never truly safe," Hook said, his eyes never leaving the shore. Another quiet moment passed. Bae watched as the tension melted away from him. He sheathed the sword. "We have to go before they get the call out. If they send the Shadow, my sword won't be any protection." Reaching over, Hook drew the boy up to sitting and looked him over for injury.

"I'm fine," Bae said though his body was quaking.

"Yes, of course. Clearly," Hook said with a sigh. "Check the boat for damage," he instructed as his gaze kept to the shore.

Bae simply nodded and gave the boat a quick inspection. Hook had taught him how to do that the first day on the Jolly Roger. Learning lifeboat maintenance was always the first lesson on any ship.

"No damage but . . ."

"What?"

"Fish. So many of them. All dead." Baelfire looked out onto the surface of the water to see hundreds of them begin to rise to the surface.

As if realization had hit him as sharply as one of those broadheads, Hook pulled his eyes away from the shore to the water only to get confirmation of what the boy was saying. "No—"

"What—"

"Cover your ears—" Hook demanded as he grabbed the oars and began to row as quickly away as he possibly could.

"I don't—"

"They didn't care if the arrows hit us; they simply needed to kill the fish. Cover your ears."

Bae didn't argue as his hands went to his ears. A moment later a high-pitched sound sliced through him. Hook released the oars and his forearms went to his own ears. Bae tried to do the same but it didn't help. The sound was excruciating. He felt a warm wetness trickle from his nostrils and down over his lips.

Hook looked to the boy as blood began to pour from his nose. Bae had covered his ears but it wasn't enough to protect him from the mermaid song. The pirate had never seen the effects of the song work on a child before. Baelfire couldn't protect himself from it. He was just too small. Something in Hook changed in that moment. Something inside of him just broke like the snapping of a twig or the splintering of glass. It was tiny but significant and he would never comprehend it. Killian Jones reached over and with his right hand and left wrist he pressed against the boy's ears.

Baelfire looked up to the pirate in quiet shock. He watched as blood started to fall over his lips. Bae didn't understand what was happening but what he did know was that the second Hook covered him, the pain went away. But as he did it, the pirate was sacrificing his own safety to protect him.

No. No, no, no. Bae pulled at his hands but Hook had them pinned and though Bae felt like he was watching the life drain from him, he remained that much stronger than he was.

"Why are you doing this?!" Bae demanded hoping he was louder than the screaming just beyond him.

Hook said nothing. Nothing at all. Maybe he didn't have the energy to speak. Maybe he hadn't heard what Bae had said. Maybe all of that but the small grin that crossed his bloodstained lips said he'd heard and that look was his answer.

The sound died away and Hook finally released him. He collapsed back against the pilot seat of the dory. Bae watched him in pure shock. Hook smiled up at him and then coughed, blood hitting the wood. Hook gripped his throat and fought to contain a moan. Bae dropped to him in a panic.

"What do I do? What happened?"

Hook shook his head and touched his own throat and then gestured to his ears.

"You can't hear me?" Bae said slowly so Hook could read his lips. He got a small negative in response. "You can't speak?" A confirmation. "Who did this?"

"Hi hi," a woman's voice said from the stern. Bae spun around to see a purple-haired woman leaning over the flat, back end of the boat with a wide, sharp toothed smile. Her eyes were large and not at all human though the rest of her features were. Her skin was an iridescent shade of opal. Two more similarly featured women popped up alongside her. One had blue hair and the other had violet hair but that was the only distinguishable difference between them. They were identical.

"Who are—" before he could finish, the boat was overturned. Bae reached out to grab hold of Hook but fiercely strong arms looped around his middle and yanked him, forcing the air out from his lungs. He fought against the arms but they were viselike. His mind was screaming in panic that quickly became a scream for air. He was being pulled down, down, deeper and deeper under the sea. He could see everything before and behind him as the glasses allowed him to make out what would be the darkest depths. He saw Hook also struggle as he was being dragged down by one of the women but . . . that wasn't a woman. Not all of her. From the waist down she was—

Mermaids.

The arms around him gave one final tug and Bae felt something inside of him crack and give way. His lungs betrayed his brain and a burning at the back of his throat forced his lips open. A small red plume escaped his mouth and everything began to slowly dim.

Killian watched as the boy began to lose consciousness and he knew there wasn't time to evaluate all of his options as he too was about to reach the point of no return. It wouldn't end like this. Not after everything. He felt the mermaid's hands around him as she dragged him farther to the bottom. He couldn't reach for his sword with his arms pinned but that wasn't his only weapon. He quickly snapped his head back, connecting sharply with her nose, breaking it. Her arms went limp. He spun around and without thought, did to her what any other hook would do to any other fish. Her wide eyes were a picture of shock when he sliced her side open. He didn't want full out war with the MerPeople so the injury wouldn't be fatal but just very ugly. He pushed away from her and swam to Bae. The third mermaid was ahead of them all, likely leading the way to a cave where they could dispose of the bodies to feed the fish.

Hook swam with the speed any other pirate captain should be known for but his major setbacks were being a minute shy of drowning and being up against a fish. A sonic yelp vibrated through the water as the injured mermaid cried out to alert her sisters. He only knew it happened because every part of him tremored.

The two lead mermaids spun around. Their shock was to his advantage as he was just a moment away from Baelfire. He slashed out and cut a deep gouge in the shoulder of the one holding him. She reeled back and in that moment, Hook secured the boy in his arms. He drew his sword as they sped up to him and he kept them at bay as he pushed up towards the surface.

The moment he hit the air he drew in breath like he'd never breathed in years. He couldn't call out to Bae, his voice still stripped by the mermaid song but the shock of the air on the boy's wet skin woke some part of him that was still conscious. The boy coughed and choked and breathed. Killian dipped every so often below the surface to keep the three sisters at a safe distance, threatening them with his sword should they get close enough to touch the steel.

After ten minutes like this, the mermaids drifted away and a moment later Killian felt solid ground under his feet. He moved as quickly as he could with Bae in his arms to the beach. The sand was a deep violet which meant they were out of reach of Baelfire's band of Lost Ones. That would at least give them time to rest. He hoped the Shadow wasn't out that night.

Bae hissed as Killian lowered him to the sand, well away from the water. Killian didn't hear him but saw the clear pain in his face. He frowned and watched as the boy clutched at his chest. Hook gave him a double tap against the back of his hand.

"I think something's broken," Bae said to the silent question. His voice was hoarse and very rough, the salt water burnt right though him. Killian tapped Bae's hand away and did a cursory examination. He sighed. Looking up to him, Baelfire asked, "Is it bad?"

Killian nodded. He looked around to the deserted beach and estimated just how far they'd have to travel to avoid any other Lost One colonies just to get to help. Too far. He'd have to do it himself. With a sigh he reached into his pouch and pulled out a small dram bottle. He gestured to Bae to sit up and take it.

"What is it?" Hook made a 'sleep' mime. "Why?" A 'snap' mime followed. "Oh." Hook was going to reset the ribs the mermaid had broken and apparently it was going to hurt enough that he'd have to be unconscious for it. But did he really trust Hook? He looked up to the man who was expectantly waiting for him to take the potion and he shook his head. Hook frowned. "How do I know you won't just leave?"

Bae saw Hook roll his eyes in apparent frustration. Hook gestured to the sea as if asking, wasn't that proof enough? Bae looked away clearly conflicted. Hook tapped his hand once more. Bae looked to him. Killian gestured to the sand beside them, and with his hook he drew out the words, "Trust me."

A wave of sharp pain went through Bae and he gasped. Hook uncorked the bottle and passed it to him. Bae took it as he blinked back his pain. He looked to Hook just before he swallowed the potion and said, "I don't." It tasted of mint and felt like oil. His eyes were closed a moment later. Hook held the boy's head in his hand and gently lowered it to the sand. How was it possible that this child was raised by the Crocodile but was in spirit exactly like his mother?

Hook sat back and just breathed. Barely half an hour had passed since he'd left his ship and so much had happened. He removed his glasses and allowed the night to completely swallow him. He knew she would be there waiting for him in the dark. He silently looked across to her ghost who was seated next to Bae and lightly stroking his wet hair. She was smiling. Looking up to him, her eyes told him how happy she was. She reached out and touched his jaw. _You are not a coward, Killian Jones. You are a good man. I know that you will take care of him as you took care of me_. He nodded, marking that promise on his heart.


	2. The Witch

Chapter 02

_The Witch_

Just after the rising of the sun, Baelfire opened his eyes to those of a very worried sea captain. Had he been watching him all night? The dark circles around Hook's eyes would seem to suggest that he had. Bae looked away, feeling awkward. It was silly. All of this was ridiculous. He felt fine and he was sure Hook was being either absurd or dishonest, despite, what Bae was sure was, the honesty of the look.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Hook asked, displaying two. His voice had returned since being assaulted by the Mermaid's Curse though it was rough.

"Six. Oh, wait," Bae said wearing a narrow look.

Rolling his eyes, Killian had to grin. That was actually pretty clever. "Good to know only your ribs were broken and not your sense of humor."

"I'm fine," Bae said. He rolled up onto his elbows to prove it. "See?" There was absolutely no pain whatsoever.

Killian rather knowingly looked down to the sand between him and the boy. Bae followed his gaze to see several empty dram bottles. "You're not feeling any pain because I had to throw just about everything I had at your injury. This defiant euphoria won't last."

Bae shook his head and just shrugged, "Fine. It'll hurt but I'll heal."

"No . . ." Killian released a heavy sigh. He lightly touched a finger the boy's chest. Pain like he'd never felt before waved through Baelfire's body. He cried out and fell back against the sand. "You won't. You're bleeding despite the outward lack of blood."

Bae pulled up at his shirt only to see a large and dark bruise under the skin.

"These," Killian said as he raised a handful of the empty bottles, drawing some violet sand along with them, "slowed the bleeding. These," he gestured to others, "stopped the pain. Well, of course as long as the injury isn't touched."

"Don't touch it again," Bae pleaded with a groan, his own hand hovering over the dissipating ache.

"Without these, you would have died during the night." He tossed the bottles aside. "I put you in this situation and for that, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Bae asked. The idea of actually dying was so far from his young mind. "I—you—"

"I know someone who can heal you," Killian interrupted before an onslaught of verbal abuse was sure to fritter away what little time they had left. "She resides on the southernmost isle. It's less than an hour's travel once we get to the portal."

At that, Bae's ears perked up. "A portal?" The hope of a possible return to the Darlings must have infused his every feature as Hook had to put his hand on his shoulder to ease away a faulty optimism.

"No, not like that. Don't get ahead of yourself. At the heart of every island in Neverland there is a portal that leads to other isles."

It took a moment for him to realize what Hook was saying. "But they don't lead outside of Neverland?"

Killian shook his head. "There are only a few ways out of Neverland. The portals are not one of them." Bae turned away. "I already told you—"

"I know. I know. The Shadow, a bean—I know."

He tried to explain, "Since the new Pan—"

"It doesn't matter," Bae shook his head. He'd heard it before when he was on the Jolly Roger. The Pan had ordered the destruction of every method of escaping Neverland. Hook had explained that he would never have returned to this place if he'd known the tyrant would use it as a prison. Bae rose up once again but much more gently even though the pain was gone. "Your friend, she's a doctor?"

"Most definitely _not_ a doctor and she is absolutely _not_ my friend," Killian said with an unhidden edge of resentment in his voice. Bae wasn't sure he'd ever seen the pirate react that way when talking about anyone other than Bae's own father.

"You hate her?"

Killian neutralized his expression as quickly as he could. "Hate is a very strong word. One should use it sparingly and reserve it only for the person one despises most in life."

"My papa," Bae guessed.

"Until I met him, yes, the word had been reserved for her." Killian helped the boy to his feet and dusted the sand off of him. Bae was confused.

"Then why would she help me? And if she isn't a doctor, _how_ can she help me?"

"She's a—let's just _say_ she's a witch and leave it at that."

It was as if a jolt of lightning had hit the boy. "A witch? I don't want magic. I don't want a _thing_ to do with it."

Killian curled up his features and looked as if he were musing a particularly uncomfortable confession. "Baelfire, right now you have more magic pumping through your veins than I believe any human has at any given point in all of creation," he said. He gestured down to the dram bottles. Bae looked to them in shock and disbelief.

"I thought—"

"I know. And I was satisfied in letting you continue thinking it but your aversion to magic _will_ be the death of you."

Bae glared at the man like he could burn a hole through him with just his gaze. "I didn't want that. I don't want this—" Killian lightly touched the boy's ribs once more. Bae hissed and pulled away.

"We can continue this conversation if you like, or we can go and visit my . . . _witch_."

As angry as he was, Baelfire knew he only had two options. It was a choice he never thought he'd ever have to face in his life. Resist magic and die, or accept it and live. Feebly he said, "It comes at a price."

"Magic? Yes, always." Killian said, scratching the side of his nose. "But you won't be the one paying. I will. Just going to her and asking for this favor is enough to mortify me the rest of my life and I've been alive a _very_ long while and plan even longer still."

"Why do you ha—why do you _dislike_ her so much?"

Killian Jones looked to the boy and had a revisit of the feelings he'd felt that day Bae had told him Rumpelstiltskin had abandoned him. There was so much about their history that was the same. Even this horrible thing was something they shared.

"That's the problem with the new generation. Everything needs a reason." Killian said with a shrug, brushing off the question. "Come along."

"You're not going to say?"

"You'll refuse to go to her if I do and my first priority is—"

Bae exhaled and trudged past him, "Right. Me." He shook his head. "I should just refuse on principle," he grumbled.

"If you want to be irredeemably foolish, go right ahead." Hook watched for a moment as the boy walked on and then he looked up to the purple trees lining the beach. To save this boy he was honestly going to consider going to _her_. It had been decades in Neverland time since he'd last seen her. It should have been enough for the ache inside his heart to have dulled satisfactorily, _time heals all wounds_ and other such tommyrot but . . . it hadn't. He was just as angry and bitter as ever and the idea that this child, this ungrateful, impudent—_headstrong teenager_ would actually force his hand in seeing her again . . .

"I don't know where I'm going," Bae said from the first shadows of the trees.

"And that makes the both of us," Hook mumbled to himself as he went to him. "This way," he said as he pulled a small bottle from his pouch.

Bae gestured to it with a quizzical look, "Just how much _can_ you fit in there?"

"The bag? It was a gift from my governess. It can fit as much as I want it to," Killian said.

"_You_ had a governess?" Bae asked with a little surprise.

"That's your question? Not that she was _clearly_ magic, by evidence of the never-ending pouch, but that I had a governess at all? Really?"

"You're a pirate. I guess I didn't expect—"

"And for a while you were cabin boy on the Jolly Roger which made you a pirate by affiliation. True or false, I heard you speak not simply once or twice about a _particular_ governess who'd taught you at the Darling house?" Bae's cheeks flushed. "A certain Miss Oswald? Very pretty, I gather?"

"Okay. Stop." Bae looked away, his cheeks as bright as the sun.

"None of us are born pirates, Baelfire. 'Pirate' isn't a race of people, it's an occupation. One I've learned to like very much."

"But you had a life before it."

"Exactly so." He gestured to the leather pouch, "Mary gifted this to me when I entered university—"

"_You_ went to university?" Bae exclaimed before biting his tongue. Killian rolled and then closed his eyes. "Sorry."

"Yes, I can even eat with my mouth closed. That particular miraculous feat of wonderment landed me a lucrative side show career." Disgusted, Killian threw the bottle to the ground where it shattered. A golden yellow mist curled up from it and snaked its way away from them and deep into the trees. "The path to the portal." He explained, leading the way. "The Lost Ones have never been able to find them because the fairies refused to teach them. As I understand it, they foresaw the coming of the new Pan and prepared so many years in advance."

"So, there _are_ fairies in Neverland?" Bae asked having heard them spoken of by the other boys.

"Yes. They hide themselves very well and only appear when they want to be seen."

"But you've seen them?"

Killian gestured to the golden path. "All you've encountered thus far has been fae magic."

Bae frowned at that, something uneasy starting to shift inside of him. "But . . ."

"What?"

"You gave me all of that fairy magic and none of it helped?"

"Aye," Killian said, wondering what the child was onto.

"So . . . your witch is more powerful than the fairies?"

Killian bit his tongue and kept moving, hoping Bae didn't see him cursing himself. "She is very capable. Her powers are strong."

"No one is stronger than fairy magic. I don't think my father is stronger than fairy magic."

"For your realm let's hope that's true." Killian said, brushing him off.

"If she is that powerful, why hasn't she healed—" Bae looked to his hook.

"Oh, this?" He gestured to where his hand once was. "Your father took it with him. Can't heal what isn't there."

Bae turned away. That wasn't the answer he expected. At all.

Killian spoke to remove the unsettled quiet that was about to push in. "Look around boy, this is Neverland. Time doesn't even exist here. What makes you think the same rules would apply?" He hoped that was enough deflection to last them the journey. Baelfire was frustratingly perceptive and he was eager to pick apart every single word and phrase but he seemed to accept what Hood had said. Bae nodded. Up was down in Neverland. The rules of magic were likely less rule-like and more like loosely adhered-to guidelines.

"For my realm?" Bae said, thinking over what the pirate had said. "You're not from the Enchanted Forest?"

"A lot of questions this morning."

Bae ignored him. "Are you from here? Neverland?"

"In a sense. I was raised here, as much as anyone can be raised in a place where they never age. I wasn't born here if that's what you mean, though. Being born in Neverland would be unique . . . and horrifying. An eternal infant? Shudder the thought. No. I'm from where you just left."

"England?" Killian gave him a look that said 'more or less.' Bae tried to understand that. "But—I don't understand. Did the Shadow bring you here?"

"Of course not. I came before that abomination was unleashed on the world."

"But, how'd you get away? The bean was supposed to bring me to a land without magic. You must have used magic to leave."

"That realm once had an abundance of magic it simply has very little of it now. If it didn't have magic, there would be no way to connect a portal to it. It would be like a one-ended tunnel. The stars, the land itself, the sea were its sources. Those things were directed by gods and goddesses but the old gods left a long time ago for the other realms. And so now it is _functionally_ a 'land without magic.'"

"The old gods?"

"Pan is one of them. And don't mistake, I don't mean the Pan the Lost Ones take their orders from. This new Pan is a psychopath." Bae seemed confused. "The Lost Ones are devotees to the god. Their leader, when chosen, receives the title of 'Pan.' It's a kingship. Previous to this particular mad child there were generations of similar rulers who would lead young boys here to frolic for eternity or until they wanted to go home. I've yet to meet a child who wanted to remain a child his entire life."

"So _Peter Pan_ is their king?"

"Yes, and he would be Peter Pan the Fourteenth. The previous thirteen were actually quite sane. For the most part."

"Who's the boy he's looking for?"

"From my suspicions I imagine his successor of course he'd never admit that to the Lost Ones. The Oracle divines that sort of thing. I expect she saw it and as is her duty, must have relayed it to him. That boy they search for is destined to be Peter Pan the Fifteenth and hopefully will bring some sanity back to Neverland."

"And Pan wants to kill him?"

"Well, he enjoys having power."

"If you thought I was the boy the Shadow was after—"

"Why give you to them?" Killian asked. Bae nodded. "If it was your destiny to be Pan, you would be. If not, they'd simply house and feed you. I'd call that a double bright-side."

Bae shook his head. No, that wasn't right. "But you couldn't know for sure they wouldn't kill me."

Killian stopped walking and turned to Bae. The next words were more difficult to say than he'd imagined. "I couldn't know for sure. No." Bae searched his face as if waiting for some other reply but nothing came. It was an admission and it was terrible but it was honest. Baelfire looked down to the path before them and nodded. "Baelfire, I won't pretend that my choice was a good one. If I thought that, I wouldn't be here trying to make it up to you. What I allowed to happen—what I _did_ was vile. It was cowardly. I will spend a long time apologizing for it."

Bae nodded again, silently, and just walked past and ahead of him.

"You have nothing to say to that?" Killian called out to him.

"I hate you?" Bae replied back as if it were obvious.

"At least you're consistent."

The violet trees abruptly merged into those of brown and green. Bae looked down between the borders of what seemed to be two worlds with purple grass under his feet that was cut with a stripe of green just a step away. He'd walked to the border of the blue forest when he was with the Lost Ones and it was a marvel then as much as it was at that moment.

"What causes it?" Bae asked.

"The division? The ground water is more fresh than salt at this point. The mermaid colonies affect the seawater and thus the colors."

"Why are some beaches colored and others not? The one I landed on was ordinary."

"There's no ordinary when it comes to this place. You likely came ashore near the mouth of a river." They stepped over the border line and for a moment Bae almost felt he was home. "Another mile or so. This isn't the largest of the isles." Killian saw the boy's face once more and knew he was again picking apart something he'd said.

"So . . . you knew the other thirteen Pans?"

"I don't know why I bother speaking. I hope your Miss Oswald knew she had a future barrister on her hands."

"How old _are_ you?"

"I spent my childhood here so I have no idea," he said, taking the lead once more.

Bae narrowed his eyes on him. "Is that the truth?"

"Yes. I was three years old for a _very_ long time."

"Were you one of them? The Lost Ones? Were you a Pan?"

Killian laughed. "A king? No, I was never a king, Baelfire. I prefer my allegiances to be voluntary."

"So, how'd you get here? From England, I mean."

"Well, it wasn't England _specifically_. It was Ireland, of course back then it wasn't _called_ Ireland. My . . . mother brought me here, to Neverland."

"Why?"

"I was aging. She didn't like that." Bae frowned again, knowing he was only getting a part of the story. "So she brought me here, the only realm where time stops."

"What about your father?"

"He couldn't follow us. He had his . . . work. She would take me back to that realm every so often, to visit him. One year she sent me on my own and he was upset she wasn't there. He didn't let me come back to her which, in hindsight, wasn't wise of him. We stayed together for a few years traveling but she was looking for me and when she finally found us—"

Realization crossed Bae's features. "That's when he left you—because of her?"

"He'd stolen me from her. I didn't realize that I'd even _been_ taken, I was with my father. I just assumed it was his turn to be with me. My mother's rage was indescribable." Bae wished he could understand that kind of parental devotion but he honestly couldn't. "When she found me I was quite a bit younger than you are. I didn't want to return here. I wanted to grow up. I wanted to be a sailor, as my father had been, as we had been in those years. But I was too young to plead my case. I couldn't get her to understand."

"She took you back here?"

"And here I stayed for another immeasurable amount of time, through two Pans if you'd believe, before I finally begged her to just return for a little while. We did and . . ." Killian glanced up to the canopy and the morning daylight twinkling between the leaves. "I don't really remember the rest. We were ambushed. She managed to get me to safety but something had happened to her. They'd changed her. They took away an essential part of who she was. I blamed myself for that for a while. It was my idea to come back."

"Who did it?"

Killian laughed a little at that. "Whatever I call them will be all the same to you. Does it matter? When we reunited I could tell how much they'd done to her. And she was angry. It changed her. We were stuck there for about a year before she managed to get some of who she was back, just enough to open a portal and return me here."

"She stayed behind? Why?"

"Revenge. She had to have it."

"She sent you here alone?"

"Yes. I suppose I was about six years old and I spent my time wandering the isles. I knew them, I'd been here for centuries, this was my home but it wasn't the same."

"Not without your mother," Bae understood what he meant, except for him it was his father. They'd both been abandoned by the parent who had raised them, one for power and the other for revenge. In Baelfire's case there was the added insult of being abandoned to a land he wasn't familiar with but of course, Hook had been much younger. "You said your father was a sailor. He wasn't a pirate, then?"

Killian grinned. "You hear all the things I don't say. No, he wasn't a pirate. Just a sailor."

"How'd you . . . become a pirate?"

"You mean how'd I finally escape Neverland for a life of infamy?" Bae rolled his eyes. With a chuckle, Hook said, "My mother sent for me. She was in a, we'll call it a _dalliance_, with a particular pirate captain that she trusted. He was the only one she trusted. She missed me. It had been a while for her but here in Neverland it had been an eternity for me. I finally had what anyone would call _roots_ and here he came to whisk me off on a whim. I resented him. I resented him for years."

For his own reasons, Bae asked, "Did she love him?"

"I'd like to think so. In her way. He took me on. She came to the realization that as much as she didn't want me to age, she didn't want me to be away from the land where she lived even more. She was too busy plotting to really handle a child and so he brought me up on his ship and taught me as much as I could learn."

"The pirate, he raised you?"

Killian wanted to shrug that off without an admission but he just managed to look exasperated. "I grew up, he was there. You could _call_ it that I suppose. He would definitely call it that but that's his way." Killian said with a reluctant smile. "He's insufferable."

"How does your governess fit in?"

"When I was around your age my mother told him that his ship and being with him in particular would be the most dangerous place for me to be for a while. He decided then that I would be sent away. I didn't have a choice in it. I was sent away. Again. I was dispatched to a school in Ireland but my childhood memories of the place were from so many years back that it was like being in a whole other world. Other children can be quite sadistic and I didn't sound like them. I'd lost the accent and I spoke more like my mother than anything else. I had to fight to regain it but it didn't help. I was permanently labeled an outsider. It was like that for about a year before my letters to him finally convinced him. He then sent me to school in London, where of course now I had an Irish accent and was equally tortured. After more correspondence I was taken out of school completely to live in a house he owned in Grosvenor Square under a rather strict set of live-ins and of course, educated by Mary."

"Who had magic."

"They made sure. I was two years in at Cambridge when it was over. Her revenge was complete was what the letter said. She again sent for me and so he came. I was tired of it. I was tired of being shifted around on her whims. I told him I wasn't going anywhere. I had finally built a life for myself. I was a grown man and I could make that decision for myself."

"She didn't accept no for an answer, did she?"

Killian's eyes widened just a little to show how much of an understatement that was. "It's not in her nature."

"He took you, didn't he? The pirate? Against your will, I mean."

"He had to. I didn't really understand my mother. All that she was. I'd never been afraid of her and I'd never be but the fear she put into the hearts of _other_ men, that was different. I could see he had to either return with me or not at all. And even then, not at all wasn't exactly an option."

"You came back here, to Neverland?"

"Not immediately. She stayed over there for a while doing god knows what, reestablishing herself I imagine. She stayed and so did I, but she wanted me at sea." Bae wondered what difference it made. "So I stayed on his ship and eventually came into my own."

"But, you could have gotten away. Your father did."

As much as he'd wanted to simply smile that away, Killian's face formed a grin that was nothing but bitterness and his gaze was just a little distant. "No, Bae, he didn't."

It was in that look Bae understood what Hook hadn't said in that moment. "She . . . she killed him? Your mother killed your father?"

"He was the one who betrayed her when we returned from Neverland. He was the reason she was ambushed and stripped. She had no idea until the end and in the end she destroyed him." Bae took a deep breath and looked away. "I didn't have any intention of telling you all of this—"

"I kept asking."

"Aye . . . that you did," Killian said with a low voice. He plowed those memories infrequently and never all at once as he just had. He kept quiet the remainder of the way and Bae followed suit.

The golden path led to a small grassy clearing where it rose up off the ground in streams of mist forming a tall ten foot portal. Bae looked to the center of the portal but there was no difference between it and the rest of the area. There was no ripple, no distortion, no energy. It was definitely not like a portal created by a bean.

"It's invisible?" He asked.

"The fae did that. It was the only way to hide it properly. Speak the name of the isle you want to go to and walk through. If you say nothing, it doesn't work so you can't just happen upon it, you see."

"Where are we going?"

"Okeanos."

Bae whispered it to test the pronunciation and then he nodded and faced the portal. He spoke the name of the isle and stepped through. An immediate feeling of cold circled him before being followed by penetrating and comforting warmth. He emerged on the other side to bright sunlight and the smell of cedar and juniper. The trees around him were alder, poplar, and cypress. Through the trees he could see meadows of violets and heather. Hook emerged beside him an instant later. As pleased as Bae was with the vision before him, the pirate seemed put upon. Irritated.

"You really don't like her do you?" Bae asked of the witch they'd come to visit.

"To sit down, have a conversation and tea? No. Milah loved her though."

"My mother knew the witch?"

"She knows everyone in Neverland," he said before he amended, "Actually, she knows everyone everywhere."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I'm surprised you haven't deduced it already," Hook said. "You're so sharp." They had no use for the golden path on this end of the portal. Killian led the way.

A few minutes into the walk Bae asked, "Did you ever forgive her?" as if he'd been strengthening his resolve the entire time to even speak about it again.

"Who?"

"Your mother. For what she did."

"Are you asking to see if it would be possible to forgive your father for what he did?"

Bae felt that barb enter straight to his heart even if it hadn't been said to hurt. He shrugged it off. "I'll never see him again. It doesn't matter."

"No, what doesn't matter is whether you'll ever see him again. Forgiveness isn't dependent on him, it's dependent on you."

"Did you?" Bae pressed, not wanting to think about his father and his mother.

"As much as she would like that, no. I haven't. I only knew him a few years and yes, he left me but he was still my father. Could I one day? I don't know. She's done more to me than just that so there's a lot to dig through."

Bae understood that. He hated being able to see through Hook's eyes but he couldn't help it. He hated being able to know exactly what he was saying without him even saying much of anything but again, he couldn't help it.

"I don't want to hate my father," Baelfire said very quietly.

"And I don't want to hate my mother." The path opened up to a great lake with a large and sturdy log cabin on short stilts just inside of its borders. Bae frowned at the structure. It was already so close to the shore that to him it made no sense to build it over the water. A massive winding staircase led from the shore, and wrapping around the side of the cabin, led to the front door that faced the full view of the enormous lake.

A brown-skinned woman was standing in the water with her back to them, her face overlooking the lake. She had a large mass of hair that was twisted into thick and thin dreadlocks. It took Bae a moment to realize she wasn't standing _in_ the water but rather, she was standing _on_ the water.

"Is that your witch?" Bae whispered to Hook.

"About that . . ." Killian began as he moved to hush him.

"Witch?" The woman called out, her voice carrying to them as if she were a whisper away. "Is that what 'im call me?" She turned to face them. Her lips were as dark as the kohl that circled her eyes. She had . . . freckles? just under her eyes and on her chin. No, they were too symmetrical and uniform to be freckles. Her clothes seemed to be a combination of homespun cloth, net, and cowry shells. On a breeze, her scent came to them as a mixture of cranberry, water lily, and the ocean itself, though from what Bae could tell, they weren't anywhere near the outer shore. Mountains lined the lake on three sides and a valley as far as the eye could see bordered the fourth.

"Is dat how you describe me, Ceallach Ionios?"

"Who?" Bae asked, confused.

Killian sighed. "It's my name. My birth name. Killian Jones, _Strife of the Sea_."

"'im was given to me in pain. So of pain I name 'im."

"Wait . . ." Bae began, his eyes now very wide. "Is that—?"

"And where's Jack?" Killian asked the woman as he ignored Bae's barely spoken but very clear question.

"Playing bones wit da sídhe." She said, gesturing to one of the mountains.

"Is he winning?"

She chuckled, heartily. "Da likle bird don' know how fi lose."

"Jack?" Bae asked.

Killian knew there was no real way to avoid the question. "The pirate who raised me. My . . . stepfather, more or less. He's semi-retired."

Bae looked to the woman as she started to walk across the surface of the lake to them. The moment she touched the soil, small lotuses appeared at her bare feet. This kind of magic was utterly foreign to Baelfire. It seemed completely natural to her being. She was most definitely not a witch.

She walked up to Killian and touched his face. Bae watched a quiet war wage between the man's features. Anger was fighting heartsickness but indifference won over. She released him with a sigh and some sadness. She turned to Bae and reached out to cup his chin. Bae didn't move a muscle.

"You 'ave your mudda's spirit and ya fadda's eyes." Her breath smelled of a sea breeze.

"You know my father?"

"Guardian of da Darkness. I know of all a dem. 'im before, 'im now, 'im afta." She released Bae and then gave his ribs a poke. There was no pain. Bae didn't even realize there was supposed to be pain until she started to smirk. He broke eye contact with her and his hand went to his chest. Nothing. He moved to raise his shirt when his cheeks reddened as he remembered himself. He blushed.

"I won look. Promise," she said wearing a grin as she turned her eyes away.

Embarrassed, Bae looked to his chest and saw the bruise was gone. "Thank you," Bae said, looking up to her with a bright smile on his face.

"You welcome likle man," she turned to Killian. "'im 'ave more manners den you."

"Blame Jack," Killian replied as cool as ice. She raised a brow. He looked away, chastised. "Thank you."

She turned away, back towards the lake. Bae wondered if that was all, if they could leave but Killian simply looked up to the sky, knowing the other shoe was about to fall.

"Now, for me payment," she said, glancing over her shoulder to them with a devilish smile.

Killian half-gesticulated. "Of course."

She gestured to the cabin. "Sit down, 'ave a conversation. Some tea, maybe?"

Bae's mouth opened a little. He looked to Hook who was staring daggers at the woman. "She heard us?" He asked, very quietly.

"Clearly," Killian huffed.

She extended her hands to Bae and he cautiously went to her. She wrapped an arm around him and led him to the cabin. "Now chile, tell me all about youself."

"Al—alright . . ." Bae said, turning behind to see Hook look more defeated and resigned than he'd ever seen him. "Um, what do I call you?"

"Oh, I 'ave many names scattered across all oceans. For now you can call me Tia Dalma."

"Yes, ma'am," Bae said with caused her to laugh. "I mean, Ms. or Mrs. Dalma—" He wondered if it would be inappropriate to call her Mrs. Jones. She laughed again.

Killian watched as the sea goddess Calypso walked away towards her vacation cottage on the isle of Okeanos with Baelfire firmly in her grasp. Breakfast tea with her? Why couldn't the payment for her magic have simply been his other hand, or something equally less intrusive?

"Ceallach," she called from the foot of the winding staircase.

"Coming, mother."


End file.
